Chapter Text
"The first snow
Just enough to bend
The daffodil leaves"
— Matsuo Basho
At the turn of the 20th century, winter nights in Kyoto could only be described as chilly and tranquil. Snow rarely fell, yet the subtle beauty of the scenery was preserved by the surrounding mountains and the wooden townhouses that stood resilient amidst the city's rapid modernization. The more reserved people revelled in the warmth of their homes or the local soba shops, while the social butterflies would enjoy the occasional banquet at a ryokan or high-end restaurant.
Although the hayday of the lavish Western balls had faded, social gatherings akin to those would still take place now and again. Sometimes, in luxury Western-style hotels, some others inside the mansion of the rare aristocrat who couldn't bring herself to move to the new capital, and on the unusually rare occasion, inside the building of an antique shop that had yet to open.
It was one of these nights when a gentleman wearing a black coat and a deep blue kimono slowly approached the entrance of such a shop. He came to a brief halt and took in his surroundings. It was a large, two-story building, with the typical earthy tones characteristic of traditional houses. However, the intricate golden lattice door and the hanging paper lanterns decorated with what seemed to be octopus symbols evoked a sense of wonder and intrigue. Written in bold golden kanji above the entrance was the name of the shop—an unconventional name fit for its unconventional image.
Encouraged by animated chatter and the gentle sound of a piano, the man took off his hat and stepped into the building, his thoughts drifting back to a curious conversation from the previous evening.
-
"Seimei, I think we need a new hanging scroll in this room," his mother's warm, yet whimsical tone reached his ears.
He glanced at the painting of flowers dusted with snow. "Don't you have plenty to choose from?"
The woman gracefully tapped her chin, feigning deep contemplation. "Yes, but these are from two hundred years ago. I am feeling rather nostalgic. I want to look at one from my childhood days while drinking my afternoon tea."
Seimei eyed her cautiously and waited. She definitely had an errand ready for him.
His mother took out a letter from her sleeve and continued with a smile, "A new antique shop is opening on Shinmonzen Street next week. They're organizing a pre-opening event tomorrow night and many rare antiques will be on display for a select audience before the official opening."
She handed Seimei the letter. He raised an eyebrow at the beautiful calligraphy done in golden ink.
"And you want me to go check if they have any scrolls from the Heian period?" he asked amused.
"Yes, take my invitation letter and go out for a change of pace! Take a small break from writing. You've been holed up in this house for days." She unfolded her fan and glanced at the letter once more, a faint smile forming on her lips. "I'm sure you'll find something quite interesting there."
Before Seimei could ask further, she added, "Oh, and wear a mask. It's a masquerade ball."
-
"Mister, you may have a nice face, but put on your mask before you get into the event hall," the cheery voice of the doorman brought his thoughts back to the present. "Your letter of invitation seems fine, so feel free to go."
Consistent with the eccentricity of the shop, the doorman was a teenage girl wearing a beige kimono over a shirt, paired with a black hat. Seimei smiled, then followed suit, taking a delicate-looking fox mask out of his coat's pocket. Once it was on, the girl gestured an OK to him with her fingers and nodded to the entrance on her right.
The first thing Seimei noticed upon entering the event hall was the amusing sight of masked people, dressed in suits and kimonos alike, engaging in amicable conversations. The next thing he noticed was the old piano in one corner of the room, where a long, curly-haired man in a dark suit was diligently playing Kojo no Tsuki. The room was lit by various gas lamps, casting a warm and cozy glow that contrasted with the cold of the night. Finally, his eyes landed on the unexpected mix of traditional and Western ceramics, lacquerware, and porcelains displayed around the room behind glass-fronted cabinets.
People had only started gathering, so Seimei took the chance to quietly observe the items before the event grew livelier or anyone who recognized him approached for a conversation. Though he was there on an errand, he did have a certain fondness for items from the distant past. Woodblock prints, paintings, and calligraphy in particular never failed to grab his attention, and he had to admit that the shop's repertoire was quite intriguing.
One of the walls showcased hanging scrolls and woodblock prints depicting various creatures from folklore: sorrowful ghosts, shapeshifting foxes, and monsters posing as beautiful women. Seimei's attention was drawn to one print in particular. A woman carrying an umbrella as she walked along a lotus pond at night. At first glance, it seemed like a regular illustration of a beautiful woman, but Seimei noticed the subtle trail of blood dripping from her delicate, deep red lips. Most likely an enshoujo, he thought, or maybe people nowadays would call her...
"A vampire?" a distant whisper made him jolt out of his thoughts.
"Yes, a vampire!" repeated the whispering voice of a middle-aged man. "I heard this from a fellow associate."
Seimei slightly turned his head back and listened. So he hadn't misheard it.
"Is it the owner of this shop?" the wary voice of an elderly man joined the conversation.
"No, not her. It's that skilled manager who attended an auction in Ginza last month. He moved here recently."
"How curious! So there are more after all," came the excited voice of a young man.
"Yes, I was so surprised to hear it." The middle-aged man rubbed his chin in thought. "I was told he even had the same eyes and hair colour. I suppose it's like a trademark for them."
Seimei almost felt compelled to abandon the peace of his solitary reflections to join them and pose a few questions. Maybe he really would have done so, if not for the faint hissing sound next to him. He turned his head back to the prints and right on the metallic edge of a display case sat a little...lizard? No, an iguana?
Seimei and the iguana stared at each other. He couldn't tell which of the two seemed more perplexed.
"Did you come out of one of these prints?" Seimei finally let out with a laugh.
The iguana approached him, its big innocent eyes continuing to scrutinize Seimei. He almost wanted to pet it. Yet just as suddenly as it had appeared, it leaped off the display case and vanished into the crowd, content with whatever it had figured out. Seimei tried to track the little fellow with his eyes, but the abrupt stop of the music, followed by two rapid claps, drew his attention to the room's entrance.
The crowd went quiet, allowing the elegant figure of a man clad in a dark teal suit to enter the room. His face was concealed by a golden Venetian mask, and his white, loosely tied hair added an air of mystery to his presence in the dimly lit room. He extended his hand to the side and the iguana finally came into view as it perched itself on the man's shoulder, visibly proud to claim that spot.
The man lifted his head to face the crowd and Seimei caught a glimpse of his eyes under the lamp light—red, a deep, penetrating red.
"I'm sure you'll find something quite interesting there," his mother's words echoed in his head.
"Esteemed guests," he began with a touch of dramatic flair. "We are grateful for your presence here tonight. However, I must inform you that the much-anticipated owner of our shop had to temporarily leave Kyoto yesterday due to urgent business obligations. As the manager, I, Taki, will be your host for the evening."
The crowd watched him with curiosity. Under different circumstances, it could have been due to the grace his very presence exuded. But no, Seimei noticed the subtle unease on some faces. It wasn't merely the eccentricity that clashed with the traditionalist folks of the old capital either. Sensing this, Taki's lips curved into a playful smile.
"Oh my, have I underestimated the appeal our shop owner has for some of the gentlemen here?"
He picked up a tray of wine glasses from the side and made his way towards the crowd. Approaching a young man with a white mask, Taki extended a glass of wine to him and continued with a cordial smile, "I know rumors travel fast." He gave a glass to another man who seemed to be just as startled by the gesture as the first one. "But this is a masquerade event." Moving on, another masked man was handed a glass. "We are meant to abandon any preconceptions about each other and discuss our shared interest in artifacts of bygone eras under the guise of anonymity." The last glass on the tray was offered to an elderly man with a Noh mask. "So, I urge you, dear guest, not to let the prospect of any manager here being an immortal creature with a peculiar appearance and diet prevent you from enjoying this evening."
Taken aback by the open admission, the old man let out a chuckle behind his fierce mask. At last, he accepted the glass of wine, his initial unease giving way to a more relaxed demeanor.
Taki turned back to address the rest of the crowd. With a theatrical bow, he thanked the guests once more for their attendance, encouraging them to mingle, have a drink, and enjoy the antique displays.
Seimei continued to observe him. The people of the old capital had long grown accustomed to vampires. They were very few in number and so old, people often joked they were as much a part of the city’s cultural heritage as the shrines and temples. However, they'd always been "the other", instilling either fear or awe in the average human. Fear was an unavoidable constant, so over the centuries they had perfected the skill of earning human favor to avoid meaningless conflicts. Seeing how quickly the crowd warmed up and gravitated towards Taki for conversation, Seimei couldn't help but wonder if he, too, had been around for a long time. He must have done this a thousand times by now.
The music resumed and Seimei returned to his quiet stroll around the hanging scrolls displayed on the walls. He picked up a glass of wine and fidgeted with the stem. Try as he might to maintain his detached attitude, his curiosity had been piqued. He gave in and took a few steps in Taki's direction.
"Mr Seimei, is that you?" a voice stopped him in his tracks.
Seimei turned and noticed an old lady approaching. She wore a finely woven kimono contrasting her humorous Okame mask.
"Your face may be hidden, but your long white hair is unmistakable," she laughed softly. "It's been a while. How is your new novel going?"
Seimei finally recognized her. She was the owner of a used bookstore he often frequented on Teramachi Street. "Good evening, Mrs Ozaki," he met her with a smile. "It's been keeping me locked up inside the house, but I'm halfway done with it."
"My, you're working hard. I can't wait to read it!"
Seimei liked this nice old lady, he really did. Since he's been a loyal customer for many, many years, she was always welcoming and offered him special discounts. But she loved talking and he really wanted to head in the opposite direction. She also had a penchant for drawing people to her, like bees to a flower in full bloom. So what began as a conversation between two people soon grew to include four, then five.
"Mr Seimei, I'm a huge admirer!" The young man he overheard earlier greeted him with a bow, his excitement doubled. "Mrs Ozaki is the one who introduced me to your novels years ago. It's an honor to finally meet you in person."
He bowed in return and exchanged pleasantries with the man, but his eyes occasionally darted to the center of the room. Taki was still talking to some guests.
Seimei hadn't expected to attract much attention tonight, but he supposed it was unavoidable. Still, he was having a hard time fully committing to the conversation, so he was grateful when a bubbly middle-aged man joined them and took over his duty. He and the nice old lady clicked instantly and they began talking about luxury fabrics as soon as he complimented her obi.
"This same donsu fabric is quite popular for hanging scrolls as well, Mr Fujimoto. See this wonderful scroll with the monk Shinran? This is donsu, too."
Seimei weighed his options for a courteous retreat, but his eyes instinctively darted to the scroll.
"This is actually kinran brocade." His words inevitably brought the attention back to him. "They may look similar, but they contain gold foil threads. This scroll dates back to the Genroku period, so the original bright colors have faded over the past two hundred years."
He noticed Taki slowly heading for the door and kicked himself internally.
"Mr Seimei, your knowledge is astounding!" Mr Fujimoto exclaimed. "Not to mention that you're such a respectable man at your young age already." The young admirer meekly tried to intervene with a correction, but the man continued with a hearty laugh, "I know this may come across as quite forward, but my daughter has recently turned..."
The rest of his words didn't fully register in Seimei's head as his eyes followed Taki leaving the room. Was he stepping outside for some air?
"A 'respectable man,' yes, but you're not from around here. You don't know much about this fellow, do you?" the words of the old man wearing the Noh mask vaguely reached him.
Taki was probably alone, so it was the perfect opportunity.
Seimei turned to the group and smiled politely. "Excuse me for a moment, but I need to get some fresh air. This wine is stronger than I expected."
He bowed to Mrs Ozaki and set his barely touched wine aside before approaching the main corridor. Two distinct voices seemed to be having a conversation.
"Wah, you brought me snacks!"
"Most of the guests are already here, so you can take a break. If anything happens, I'll be in the garden." After a short pause, his tone softened slightly, and added, "Hizz, it's too cold for you outside, so stay with Sharkie for a bit."
The graceful clicking of shoes grew distant and Seimei finally stepped into the corridor. His eyes unexpectedly met the iguana's again, now perched on the doorman's—doorgirl's?—shoulder. She was too busy munching on senbei crackers to pay him any mind. The iguana lightly bobbed its head a few times and let out a soft hissing sound. Seimei chuckled and returned the gesture, bowing his head and tipping his hat in greeting.
At the opposite end of the corridor, the sliding door opened onto the engawa. Beyond it, a lone figure stood in the garden, the pale white of his hair blending into the frozen surface of the pond. Taki's back was to the door, and Seimei could almost sense the soft sigh when he removed his golden mask. A moment of doubt settled over him. Taki didn’t appear to be in the mood for company.
"Are you enjoying the event?"
Golden mask and amicable smile back on, Taki turned to meet Seimei's startled expression. His senses were sharp.
"I hope I'm not bothering you, Mr Manager," Seimei smiled apologetically.
Taki paused for a moment. "You aren't." He gestured for Seimei to join him in the garden. "I noticed you looking at the woodblock prints and hanging scrolls earlier this evening. Are they to your liking?"
His senses really were sharp.
"They are. The selection is what caught my interest, though."
Taki raised an eyebrow.
"The woodblock prints are all from the 18th century. Back then, beautiful women, kabuki actors, and landscapes were the most common subjects, yet these are all subtle depictions of creatures and monsters from folklore."
"The elegant lady in a red kimono?" Taki asked.
"Her tail was visible, so a fox spirit."
"The oiran under the cherry tree?"
"Her legs were missing—a ghost."
"What about the beautiful woman by the lotus pond?"
Seimei hesitated. "There was a trail of blood dripping from her lips—I'd say an enshoujo."
"Some might call her a vampire, too." Taki's voice carried a hint of playfulness. "Do you think they were trying to hide their true nature?"
"In tales and legends, they usually try to hide it."
"Yes, but the ones in those woodblock prints—do you think they were trying to hide it?"
Was he somehow being tested? Seimei paused to think. "Perhaps they tried to blend in at first and mimicked the beautiful women of that era. But once they got comfortable enough in their skins, they stopped hiding. The fox spirit, the ghost, and the enshoujo all looked carefree."
Taki smiled. "And the hanging scrolls? They didn't depict any spirits. What did you find interesting about them?"
"Ah, I was originally checking how old they were. I was curious if I could find one for my mother, but she wants one from the Heian period."
"The Heian period?" Taki was taken aback. "Unfortunately, the oldest one we have only dates back to the 17th century."
"Please don't worry about that." Seimei sighed with a mix of exasperation and the hint of a smile thinking about his mother's eccentric requests. "Still, something stood out to me about the scrolls. Did the shop acquire them from Hongan-ji Temple?"
There was an intrigued gleam in Taki's eyes. He hummed in affirmation and waited for Seimei to continue.
"They featured Buddhist imagery, mainly tied to True Pure Land Buddhism. Of course, there are other temples inside and outside of Kyoto practicing this branch, but each and every one of the scrolls used kinran brocade as mounting fabric. Nowadays, fabric can be designed specifically for mounting, but back then, they repurposed the cloth from Buddhist priests' ceremonial robes. The kinran brocade was old, but of very high quality, so it might have come from Kyoto's Nishijin weaving district. Moreover, some of the mounting fabrics had the wisteria crest, which is exclusive to the priests of Hongan-ji Temple." Seimei paused and glanced at Taki. "Am I correct?"
For the briefest of seconds, a tinge of wistfulness flickered across his expression at the mention of the brocade, but it quickly switched to one of satisfaction. "Impressive deduction." Taki accompanied the praise with a round of light clapping. "The woodblock prints and hanging scroll display is my favourite. I'm glad to see someone else appreciating it as much as I do."
Seimei returned the smile. So he really enjoyed his job.
A golden stone lantern on the right side of the pond caught Seimei's eye, prompting him to take a few steps closer. "I also meant to add that tonight's selection fits the shop's aesthetic." He lightly tapped the lantern with a finger before adding with a teasing tone, "Especially the golden brocade."
"It's the owner's trademark. Everything from the lattice front door to the stone lanterns in the rear garden must be golden to align with her capricious tastes," he explained, punctuating his words with an exaggerated sigh.
"Even the ink on the invitation letters," Seimei chuckled. "I must admit, though, the calligraphy was beautiful, with such precise and elegant strokes. No wonder people seemed eager to meet her tonight. She must be a truly refined woman."
A short pause followed the remark and Taki coughed. He seemed determined to stare at a pebble lying at his feet. "I'm glad to know the writing has left such a good impression on you."
Seimei blinked. The faint sound of the piano filled the silence that set in the garden. Oh.
"You have beautiful handwriting, Mr Manager."
Although Taki's lips were hidden behind his hand from his earlier attempt to clear his throat, Seimei finally caught the subtle, delighted grin that lingered there. Taki only nodded in acknowledgement.
It was probably best not to dwell on how endearing that reaction was to him, so Seimei simply let out a quiet laugh in response. He hadn't expected this turn of events.
He stepped back toward Taki and slipped a pair of gloves on as his eyes mindlessly traced the frozen pond. The night was getting colder, but he still wanted to take another moment to indulge his curiosity.
"I hope you don't mind me asking, but have you only recently come to Kyoto?"
Taki hummed. "You could say that. I've been working with the owner for years, whether around the country or abroad. Then one day she simply declared she'd open a shop in Kyoto, so we all followed her whims as usual." He made sure to add another dramatic sigh for emphasis. "I've traveled a lot, but this is actually my hometown."
Seimei turned to him.
"Is it that surprising?" Taki chuckled. "It was a long time ago. So much has changed since I was last here that I often feel the same surprise." He closed his eyes, lost in thought, as the fleeting wistfulness that had touched his smile earlier now lingered on his face. "The Nishi-za theatre I used to frequent is long gone, the public bathhouse on Sanjo Street where my father would often take me was replaced with a Western restaurant, and I will probably never get the chance to taste the same sweets that traveling vendors used to sell in Nishijin when I was young."
Seimei listened patiently, but his heart raced with each word. He got his answer at last—these were all memories from over two hundred years ago.
The stone lanterns cast a soft glow on Taki's face and Seimei continued to watch him. He didn't seem well acquainted with the vampires of the old capital, so Seimei could only imagine the loneliness that came with having nobody who understood and shared the same nostalgia.
"Did you also frequent the Ozaki Bookstore on Teramachi Street? It's a used bookstore now, but it's still there."
Taki nodded. "I did, it was my favourite. Saikaku's parodies were very popular with..." He grimaced for a second, but went on, "They were very popular with the merchant class, even though they weren't considered..." A longer pause followed this time and Taki involuntarily pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Are you alright?"
"Don't worry," he finally let out. "It should pass soon. It's just the exhaustion getting to me." Taki tried to laugh it off, but no, it wasn't—he looked pale and his breathing was uneven. Not to mention that it was very sudden.
"How often has this happened lately?"
Taki didn't answer. The faint touch of a snowflake made his hand twitch. "You should go inside. It's getting colder."
Seimei recognized this. He must have felt it for a while now, but buried it until it eventually took its toll. Measuring his words, Seimei asked as gently as he could, "Are you hungry?"
Taki flinched, his surprise evident as his deep red eyes locked with Seimei's blue ones. The surprise quickly turned into apprehension when he saw the man slowly take a glove off.
"You can have my blood. I don't mind."
"Please go inside," Taki pleaded weakly. "We can continue our talk later."
Seimei locked eyes with him again, expression unreadable. Taki held himself with dignity, but he looked like he could crumble under the weight of a few snowflakes.
"Alright," Seimei conceded and turned to the engawa.
Taki let out a sigh of relief. Before he could direct his gaze back to the pond though, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He instinctively reached for it, but the dizziness overwhelmed him, forcing him to drop to one knee for balance. "Wait," he tried to ignore the sensation, "you dropped your glove."
Seimei returned with light steps and extended his ungloved hand. A single drop fell from his wrist, hitting the ground and causing Taki's breath to hitch.
"Thank you, but please don't be so stubborn." He grabbed the glove, making sure to reveal the fresh cut on his wrist as he did so. Droplets of blood slid down the pale skin, leaving trails that beckoned with each snowflake that melted into them. "Let me help you. I really don't mind."
Taki remained silent and bit his lip, his gaze firmly avoiding Seimei's. He then placed his hand under Taki's chin and slowly lifted it, the gesture startling him enough to meet Seimei's eyes.
"You won't hurt me either."
He continued to bite his lip, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts swirling in his mind, but Seimei waited patiently. At last, Taki took off his mask, revealing his weary expression, and gave in. His hands trembled slightly as he grabbed Seimei's wrist.
"Stop me if I do," he whispered and brought his lips to the fresh cut on the wrist. After a moment of hesitation, he licked over the wound.
Seimei was fully prepared for it to sting. What he wasn't prepared for, however, was the utter gentleness of Taki's bite. His teeth sank into the tender flesh above the cut, slowly, as if he intended to thoroughly savour the act. Closing his eyes, he withdrew his teeth and began to gently suck at the puncture wounds, allowing the taste of blood to gradually quench his hunger. He must have really enjoyed it because his cheeks were dusted with a warm shade of pink under the icy touch of the snow. Seimei continued to be caught off guard as Taki's tongue brushed over the marks, then slid down further, past the cut, following the trickles of blood that had stained his palm and fingers. He then moved his soft lips back to the marks and sank his teeth inside one last time.
Seimei couldn't even register the distant piano music anymore. He felt his own cheeks begin to match Taki's flush. Is this normal? I've never... His thoughts came to a halt when Taki mindlessly nibbled on the bite marks, causing Seimei's heart to skip a beat. The hold on his wrist loosened with the featherlight touch of fingers tracing the back of it, and Taki finally let go.
Seimei blinked once, twice, quickly regaining enough presence of mind to check on Taki. He dropped to his knee to see his face at eye level. His breathing had evened out and his face no longer looked pale, perhaps because the flush had yet to subside.
"Are you feeling better? Was that enough?"
Taki's dazed eyes silently met Seimei's. He waited quietly for an answer.
"Forgive me for asking so late, but could you tell me your name?"
The suddenness of the question and the soft tone of his voice caught Seimei off guard yet again. However, just as he was about to respond, loud thumping in the corridor accompanied by a high-pitched voice forced the attention of the two men to the door.
"Taki, Takiii!!" The girl at the door rushed into the engawa. "Some guys started arguing really loudly in the event hall and are bothering the other guests. Can I kick them out?" She sounded weirdly excited about the last part and her grin widened.
Taki sighed, put his mask back on, and got up. "No, I'll deal with them."
Before he could step away though, Seimei quickly grasped the hem of his jacket and whispered the answer to his earlier question. He released the hem just as quickly. Taki responded with a lighthearted grin and reassurance, "I'll be right back, Seimei."
Snow lightly fell as silence set in the garden. Seimei absentmindedly ran a finger over the bite marks, watching as they faded little by little. In spite of the cold, a familiar warmth suddenly enveloped his eyes, and any thought of going back inside stopped him in his tracks. He took off his fox mask and approached the pond. Standing there, he listened to the muffled buzz of the crowded event hall. A tinge of regret flickered over the pair of crimson eyes reflected in the frozen surface of the pond.
I'm sorry. It seems I have to leave early tonight.
By the time Taki settled the matter, his esteemed guest had already left. He scanned the hall in search of him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Doubt and guilt might have clouded his mind that night, if not for a note the young doorgirl mischievously waved in his face.
"If you're looking for your friend, he left you this."
It was brief, but enough to lift Taki's spirits.
"The Ozaki Bookstore, January XXth, 18:00.
I'd be happy to continue our talk.
Seimei."